Infinitely Losing My Edge
Yeah, I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
The kids are coming up from behind.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids from Guatemala and from Houston.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids whose footsteps I hear when they get on the decks.
I'm losing my edge to the internet seekers who can tell me every member of every good group from 1960 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran kids in little jackets and borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered nineties.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
I can hear the footsteps every night on the decks.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald started up his first band.
I told him, "Don't do it that way. You'll never make a dime."
I was there.
I was the first guy playing Red Lorry Yellow Lorry to the disco kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
Everybody thought I was crazy.
We all know.
I was there.
I was there.
I've never been wrong.
But I'm losing my edge to better-looking people with better ideas and more talent.
And they're actually really, really nice.
I'm losing my edge.
I heard you have a compilation of every good song ever done by anybody.
Every great song by The Flesh Eaters. All the underground hits.
All Skaos tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Fugs record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Grass Roots record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
DJ Style,
Black Pus,
Ultimate Spinach,
Erasure,
Laurel Aitken,
Roy Ayers,
Soft Machine,
Amon Düül II,
Ten City,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Wolf Eyes,
The Moody Blues,
Robert Görl,
Television Personalities,
Fat Boys,
Malaria!,
Grey Daturas,
Bluetip,
Bobby Byrd,
The Happenings,
Ronan,
Buzzcocks,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
R.M.O.,
The Motions,
Lou Reed,
Television,
Jeru the Damaja,
Black Sheep,
Underground Resistance,
The Gories,
Idris Muhammad,
10cc,
Theoretical Girls,
Nirvana,
Shoche,
Andrew Hill,
Excepter,
Eve St. Jones,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Mark Hollis,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Barclay James Harvest,
The Invisible,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Cluster,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Sonny Sharrock,
Anthony Braxton,
The Fortunes,
David McCallum,
Mr. Review,
Bobby Womack,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Newcleus,
Ultra Naté,
Brass Construction,
Icehouse,
Slick Rick,
Patti Smith,
AZ, AZ, AZ, AZ.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.